


BECOME AS DOGS

by AMX004_Qubeley



Category: NieR: Automata (Video Game)
Genre: An In-Depth Discussion on What Species 2B's and 9S's Fursonas Would Be, Animal Transformation, Body Horror, Comfort/Angst, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, I Wrote This Entire Fanfic Solely Because I Came Up With That Title, Illustrated, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 11:27:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15023567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMX004_Qubeley/pseuds/AMX004_Qubeley
Summary: Query: How could an android become a werewolf?Response: The same way anything else can. Painfully.In which 2B learns about a new subculture and 9S finds out what it means to be a good boy.*This fic is now illustrated!**This fic now has two chapters!*





	1. Once Bitten

**Author's Note:**

> I needed a bit of a change of pace from my other Nier Automata fic, so I wrote this.
> 
> Technically this fic's concept is fundamentally unworkable because in Nier Automata, the Earth has become tidally locked somehow (although not a single place on Earth seems to have experienced any ill environmental effects from being drowned in perpetual day/night). I'm ignoring that bit of worldbuilding because I don't like it.
> 
> Yes, _that_ bothered me more than "How would it even be possible for an android to contract lycanthropy" while I was writing this.

A full moon shone over a dead forest, its faint rays drowning out the stars and illuminating the Earth in a pale imitation of sunlight. A lone woman ran through the midnight forest, her hair as silvery as moonlight itself and her flowing dress as black as the night sky, deftly weaving between skeletal trees and leaping over fallen trunks and trickling creeks. Two swords, one long, one short, floated at her back as if tethered by an invisible force.

Running at such a speed did not exhaust her; the obstacles crowding around her she barely gave a second thought as she dodged incoming branches and skipped across uneven ground. While she may have appeared human, she was anything but.

Unit 2B ran through the forest, and her support pod, a boxy automaton designated Pod 142, hovered behind her.

The pod spoke. “Statement: Incoming transmission from Unit 9S.”

2B nodded. “Patch him through, 042.” Immediately, an audio spectagraph appeared in the corner of her visor, projected into 3D space. The graph flared up as her counterpart spoke.

9S sounded tired, but eager. _“Hey, 2B? I’ve got something to show you.”_

“What is it, 9S?”

“ _You’ve kinda got to_ see _it.”_

Pod 042 ducked its head as 2B slid under a low-hanging tree trunk blocking her path. “Statement: Unit 9S is requesting authorization to transmit visual data.”

“Grant authorization.”

Less than a second later, a photo popped up on 2B’s visor, all but blinding her. With a groan she adjusted the size of the image and pushed it off to the side so she could still see what she was doing, narrowly avoiding a boulder that seemed to have been placed in the perfect spot to trip her.

“Um… 9S?” 2B asked, examining the rough sketch 9S had sent her. She slowed her pace to a walk.

“ _Yeah?”_ 9S asked, sounding unusually nervous.

“What is this? A drawing?”

“ _Yeah! It’s you!”_

2B took a closer look. When 9S pointed it out, it seemed obvious. But there were a few details that just left 2B mystified. “I don’t think you did a good job capturing my likeness. Why are there triangles poking out of my hair?”

“ _Well, uh, it’s a…”_ 9S sighed. “I-It’s… called a ‘fursona,’ 2B. Ancient humans used to have them.”

“A fursona.”

“ _Yeah. Sort of a pun on ‘persona.’ Humans would draw themselves or each other as… um… animal people. The clinical term, from what I can gather, was ‘anthropomorphic animal.’ I think it had some sort of social or religious function.”_

“Is that so?” 2B found herself unable to fully pull her eyes away from 9S’s… drawing. While she was loath to admit it, there was something endearing about 9S’s little gift. “What animal is this supposed to be?”

2B expected him to be disappointed that she couldn’t tell on her own, but 9S seemed to have accepted his artistic limitations. She could hear 9S’s eyes lighting up. _“I decided to make you a wolf, 2B! Because you’re, um… graceful, noble, a bit of a loner, kind of aloof…”_ He chuckled. _“Or, uh, I guess, ‘awoo-f…’ Get it?”_

“No.”

“ _Awoo. That’s the sound of a wolf howling.”_

“Oh.” 2B dismissed the drawing, but not before saving it to local storage, although, of course, she couldn’t bring herself to tell him that. “It was very nice of you to share this with me, 9S.”

“ _You like it?”_

“I appreciate it.”

“ _Um… speaking of, 2B, what do you think_ my _fursona would be?”_

“Yours?” 2B pondered 9S’s question, finding that it took more CPU cycles than she’d anticipated. “I don’t know as much about wildlife as you,” she admitted. She wasn’t exactly being truthful—she’d been to Earth more times than 9S, or at least more times than _this_ 9S, but pretending so many things on Earth were new to her gave 9S an opportunity to share things he’d learned with her, as he was doing now. Out of dozens of 9Ses, though, this one was the first to bring up ‘fursonas.’ “Do you have any suggestions?” she asked him.

“ _I was thinking of maybe a crow, or a raven, or a magpie…”_

“Birds don’t have fur. How can your fursona be a bird?” 2B picked up the pace and soon returned to her top sprinting speed, and as the forest grew sparse around her signs of civilization began to emerge. Broken buildings, vestiges of roads, rusted-out cars and trucks of all shapes and sizes.

“ _I think there was a bit of a schism at first, but the two sects joined together. It’s hard to know about anything from 10,000 years ago for certain, you know? Anyway, um… what about a fox?”_

2B chose not to argue with 9S. “If you think it fits.”

“ _And you’re fine with being a wolf, right? I-I could draw you as a cat or a dragon or a unicorn or something if you don’t think it suits you.”_

“It’s just a drawing, 9S,” she reminded him. “It’s not real.” _I like it, though,_ she wanted to say. But she held her tongue. Such an outburst would only cause trouble.

“ _Yeah, yeah.”_

“A single affirmation will suffice, 9S. Humans may have felt some psychological need to pretend to be other creatures, but we do not.” 2B glanced at the map in the corner of her HUD and noticed her destination drawing nearer. “I’m approaching the rendezvous point,” she told 9S.

“ _See you in a few minutes,_ _th—”_

9S was interrupted by a bloodcurdling scream, and with a crackling of static, his line went dead, quieting the voice in 2B’s head.

Adrenaline pumped through 2B’s system, setting aside all thoughts of 9S’s frivolous interests as she pushed herself to run even faster, the synthetic muscles in her legs burning. Funnily enough, her radar didn’t detect any machines around 9S’s position, just a few signatures consistent with wild animals. _Those_ couldn’t have caused him that much trouble, could they?

Near the center of town was the vine-choked remnants of a sprawling campus, and in the middle of its grassy, weed-saturated quad sat 2B’s counterpart, propped up against what had once been a statue of a person but now resembled a collapsed pillar of salt. With his slight build, silvery hair, and soft, boyish face, he could have been 2B’s twin. His own support pod, Unit 153, floated at his side, an exact mirror of 2B’s pod save for its black finish, smoke curling from its gun turrets. One of the sleeves of 9S’s ornate black frock coat, his official Scanner uniform, had been torn away, revealing a pale bare arm stained with smears of blood. “Hey, 2B. You made it.”

2B skidded to a stop, crouching down and taking his arm. Several V-shaped patterns of puncture wounds circled his arm, synthetic blood—vital coolant and electroconducting fluid—trickling from the perforations. With a packet of staunching gel in hand she began to tend to 9S’s injuries, the free-flowing blood congealing and scabbing over immediately as the compound did its work. “What happened?”

“It’s fine. I just got attacked by some wild animal.” 9S waved his good arm and gestured with his thumb to the prone body of a massive gray wolf lying on its side just a few meters away. A spear still protruded from its side, its pelt soaked with blood. “Sorry for scaring you, 2B. I-It just got the drop on me, that’s all. The bite hurt more than I’d expected.”

2B bit her lip. Something about this didn’t add up. A bite from a wild animal, even one that had grown to gargantuan proportions, shouldn’t have so easily penetrated the synthetic flesh of a YoRHa model, which could withstand even attacks from machine lifeforms. The pressure exerted by the giant wolf’s jaws must have been immense. “I suppose it must have. I’m glad you’re all right,” she admitted.

9S stood up, tugging at his collar and unbuttoning his coat. “Hey, did it just get more humid out, or is it just me?”

His complexion was wan. Breathing heavily, he pulled off his visor next, revealing pale blue eyes—and beads of sweat coating his brow. A pang of worry struck 2B, and although she did her best to hide it, 9S noticed. “Hey, 2B. Is something—”

9S doubled over, gritting his teeth in agony as the visor slipped from his hand and fluttered to the ground. Hooking his fingers into 2B’s shoulders, he collapsed into her arms, weakly clawing at her.

2B panicked.

* * *

The pain crowded out all other thoughts. It was like snakes writhing beneath his skin, like his bones melting and flowing like molten iron in a foundry. 9S heard cracks and pops from all of his joints in sequence, a hoarse and shallow cry wrenching itself from his mouth as his body seemed to drift apart from itself, unraveling like a spool of thread. And the heat—It felt like he was roasting beneath his clothes.

2B’s panicked voice vanished into an incoherent cacophony as bursts of white noise and static assaulted 9S’s ears and eyes. Foam dripped from his mouth, reducing his cries of pain to strangled gurgling as he collapsed to the ground, the grass tickling his bare skin just like the prickling sensation spreading across his body. He could feel his teeth loosening in his mouth, his fingernails loosening in his gloves, even his toenails coming loose in his boots—and heard the wet sound of something splitting. Something forced its way down his throat, slicked with spit, like a bag of ball bearings. The scent and taste of copper was overwhelming, filling his mouth, his nose.

“ _It’s not a logic virus? Then what_ is _it? Pod, run analysis! E-Engage emergency shutdown! 9S, can you hear me? 9S!”_

Static gave way to dazzling spots of color, white noise to a high-pitched whine ringing in his ears. 9S felt the insides of his body settle, bones resetting themselves, the straining and twisting muscles beneath his skin returning to rest. Staggering on all fours with his head hanging low, he spat out the frothy saliva filling his mouth and panted for breath, feeling the heat slowly pour out of him. Something clouded his head, new thoughts and feelings rushing through him, vying for dominance, indistinct and indescribable. He opened his eyes.

The world, to 9S, was desaturated, all colors fading almost entirely to shades of gray. But while the sight of the environment had degraded, 9S now found himself exposed to a hitherto unknown world of scent. Churned-up soil, dry leaves, blood, sweat, musk—all stung his nostrils with an intensity he’d never before imagined. Sounds, too—between those two senses 9S almost felt as though he could close his eyes and still see perfectly.

2B stood over him, her sword in her hands. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out, and her fingers trembled as they tightened around the hilt of her sword. Despite the visor hiding her eyes, despite how carefully she maintained her stoic facade, now 9S could somehow _sense_ the fear rolling off her in waves. _Say ‘emotions are prohibited’ all you want, 2B… I can read you like an open book now._

Still, though, he wondered… the pain was gone. He was okay. What did 2B have to be afraid of? _“It’s okay,”_ he choked out, struggling to force the words through his throat and out of his mouth. _“It’s… me…. I’m f-fine…”_ He tried to stand up, only to immediately fall over backwards. For some reason, his legs wouldn’t respond properly to his commands.

2B did not drop her sword. “What… _What have you done with 9S?”_ The fury in her voice was like nothing 9S had ever heard before.

“It’s me!” 9S protested. “I—It’s me. 9S. I’m rgh-right here. I’m all right.” _Why doesn’t she recognize me?_

2B dropped her sword, tentatively lowering herself to 9S’s level and leaning in. Somehow, she seemed to have grown in size. With a gloved hand she reached out and traced her fingertip along the underside of his eye socket, recoiling with a shocked gasp.

Finally, 9S looked down at himself, at the shape his body had taken, and found himself overcome with equal parts awe, horror, and numb fascination.

A thick, bristly pelt, a mottled silver-gray which faded in some places to white and in others to black, covered all visible skin—and, 9S had to assume by how itchy and stifled he felt all over, everywhere else, too. A long, bushy tail twitched angrily between his legs as if it had a mind of its own. Perhaps it did. Nothing 9S did seemed to be effective in making it stop.

He’d shrunk just a bit, losing about a head’s worth of height, enough to leave him swimming in his clothes, and the change to his legs’ shape had let his boots easily slip away from him. His shins had shortened, insteps grown longer; hocks took the place of his ankles; shiny black claws poked out from the shredded remains of what had once been his socks.

Raising one of his arms and letting the now-overly-long sleeve succumb to gravity, 9S saw that his hands, too, had changed just as his feet had, the torn remnants of his leather gloves barely covering a furred paw capped with the same black claws. Rough, puffy black pads of exposed skin stood out on his fingertips—if they could even be called fingers now—and the surface of his palm.

His tongue ran over rows of exclusively sharp teeth lining a mouth that had grown into a long muzzle as he reached up and prodded his cold, wet nose. “Uh… Pod, run a systems scan,” he ordered, slurring his words as he acclimated to his new body.

Pod 153 hovered closer to 9S, pausing for a much longer time than usual as it ran its scans. “Analysis: No systems detected. Unit 9S black box signal no longer detected.”

“What? Wh—What are you talking about?” 2B snapped. “9S is right here!”

“Affirmative. However, in light of this inexplicable metamorphosis, Unit 9S no longer produces any electrical signals consistent with synthetic life.”

 _No electrical signals consistent with synthetic life._ 9S let the words ring in his ears. Did that mean that he was…

“Statement: This support unit’s findings corroborate those of Pod 153,” 042 added. “While more intensive tests are required, results indicate that Unit 9S has become a wholly biological entity. Proposal: Return to the Resistance outpost for further assistance.”

 _I’m not an android anymore._ 9S struggled to wrap his mind around his own thoughts. He squeezed his eyes shut and bowed his head. _I… I’m a…_

The full realization in all its enormity of what he had become finally hit him, and 9S let a long, mournful, lonely howl tear itself from his throat as he raised his head toward the full moon.

“It’s okay, 9S,” said 2B. She laid her hands on his shoulders, kneeling before him. Her voice rang in his ears like never before, 9S’s heightened senses picking up on layers of concern and even fear hidden beneath her stoic words of comfort. He could even smell the worry on her breath.

As 2B tried to help him to his feet, 9S struggled to adjust to his legs, trying at first to stand heel-to-toe before balancing himself much more naturally on the pads of his paws. “Looks like… I know what my fursona is now, 2B,” he murmured with an uneasy laugh, still in shock as he took his first few steps on wobbly and unsteady legs.

2B guided him along. “I think I know someone at the camp who can help. Someone who… might be able to shed a more scientific light on your situation.”

As 9S fumbled with his belt to prevent his shorts from pooling around his hocks, he let out a whine, his pointy, furred ears drooping. “Y—You don’t mean…”

* * *

_Source:[sympolart](https://sympolart.tumblr.com/post/175379812047/illustration-for-wellmanicuredmans-nier)_

* * *

The Resistance’s chief Information Analysis Officer, an android who preferred to go by the name ‘Jackass,’ was surprisingly easy to find, even at this hour. To say 9S didn’t want to see her was an understatement. Even going to Popola and Devola, those red-haired twins everyone in the camp seemed to dislike so much for no reason, would have been better.

9S sat on the cot in the corner of his and 2B’s makeshift quarters as Jackass stood over him. The gonzo scientist had her hand clasped over her mouth, although the mirthful crinkling at the corners of her eyes gave away the smile she was trying so hard to hide. “Oh my god, 9S…”

9S looked down at his feet. Or, rather, his paws. “Just tell me what’s wrong and how to fix it,” he muttered. He had the bad feeling her answer would probably involve explosive ordinance, as it usually did.

Jackass snickered. _“Fix_ it? Why? You’re _adorable!”_

“Well, ‘adorable’ doesn’t win wars!” 9S protested. “Can’t you just figure out what happened without laughing at me?”

“Jackass, focus on the task at hand,” said 2B, crossing her arms. “Please.”

With a sigh, Jackass withdrew a syringe from her pouch of field equipment. “All right. Let’s start with a blood sample.” She knelt down—suddenly 9S realized how much shorter he was and how much more the rest of the androids in the camp towered over him now—and rolled up the sleeve of his coat. “This is gonna sting a bit.”

9S rolled his eyes. “Ugh. Come on, Jackass. I’m a YoRHa soldier, I can handle—” He yelped in surprise as the needle went in. It was just a little prick! Why did it _hurt_ so much?

Jackass pulled out the syringe a few seconds later, letting the thick, burgundy blood filling it swirl a bit before hooking the syringe to a small, handheld device and waiting a few seconds. “Yyyyyup. No coolant, no traces of nanomachines, no electroconductive fluid. You’re _definitely_ made of meat now, 9S. Congratulations!”

2B laid a hand on the back of 9S’s collar, her gloved fingers brushing against the bristly, silvery-gray fur now coating his body, as if she wanted to console him. For some reason, that sensation felt… really good.

“So… how do we make me _not_ meat?” he asked.

“I suppose we could upload your current thought processes to the Bunker and put them in a fresh body,” Jackass answered.

9S’s ears perked up in spite of himself. All these individual parts of his body had minds of their own now, and it was the worst thing in the world. The sooner he could be rid of that little quirk, the better. “Yes! Do that!”

“Hmm… But I’m not sure how we’d convert your weird, fleshy, meat brain into data the Bunker could parse. It would definitely take a few weeks of trial and error.”

“A—A few _weeks?”_ 9S barked. He couldn’t spend a few _weeks_ like this! He had to _stick his tongue out_ to regulate his body heat now, for gods’ sake!

“Hey, I’ve got a pretty full workload, I can’t make this priority number one! But there’s another problem. I don’t know how compatible your current neural architecture is to your normal body, anyway.”

“What do you mean by that?” 2B asked.

“Well…” Jackass scratched her cheek, then fished around in her satchel. “It’s kinda like this.”

She pulled out a pen, held it in the air in front of 9S’s nose—he felt his eyes lock onto it the way a support pod’s guns would lock onto an approaching enemy machine as his muscles tensed up and his claws dug into his shorts with anticipation. It was instinctual.

“Fetch!” Jackass shouted, tossing the pen through the air. 9S’s eyes followed its movements exactly, down to every millimeter it moved, and in less than a second he had bounded across the length of the room on all fours and caught the pen in his mouth.

9S’s conscious brain caught up to his body about a second later, and flush with embarrassment, he spat the pen onto the floor and picked himself up, tail tucked between his legs.

Behind him, Jackass was trying very hard not to laugh and completely failing, nearly doubling over while she tried to hold it in. “That’s not something you’d _normally_ do, right, 9S?” she asked.

2B stood at her side, her arms still crossed, her face still the very picture of stoicism, evidently unamused. “So, what do you suggest?”

Jackass kept laughing, and so with the slightest hint of an exasperated and put-upon sigh, 2B strode across the room and took 9S by the arm, her knees bending slightly to address the greater height difference between the two of them.

She seemed so much taller to him now, and—and she even _smelled_ different now. Granted, the whole world smelled different, but with 2B, the scent carried on her skin was something he couldn’t describe. It somehow made 9S feel like he was… home. Wherever _that_ was. It wasn’t something he could explain any other way.

“Jackass,” 2B said, “if you are too busy having fun to assist us any further, perhaps you should ponder our issue in your own living space and report to us on your findings in the morning.” Her terse, clipped tone suggested quite clearly that she was actually demanding that Jackass leave immediately.

Jackass caught her breath. “Yeah, sure. I’ll pop in tomorrow morning to run some more tests.”

“Can’t wait,” 9S mumbled. Maybe she’d get him to roll over or play dead next, or start begging for treats.

With Jackass gone, 2B retreated to the room’s single, unadorned cot. As she sat on the thin mattress, 9S wearily laid his head on her lap, so fatigued by his ordeal he could hardly keep his eyes open. Strange visual artifacts, like spots dancing in front of the light, fluttered through his blurring vision.

“How are you feeling, 9S?”

Being a wolf was one thing, but what _really_ made 9S feel so strange was being made of meat. It felt _almost_ like normal, but that was precisely what made it all feel so alien and unusual. It was like if he went to his quarters back on the Bunker and found that someone had moved everything exactly one centimeter to the left and painted the walls a slightly different shade of gray, only when he said anything about it everyone told him it had always been that way.

“9S?”

He realized at last that 2B had been speaking to him, and with a snout-splitting yawn he glanced upward, noticing a faint impression of concern reflected on her face. “O-Oh. Sorry. I’m just tired. Everything’s just so overwhelming, there’s so much new sensory data to process, and…”

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

“What?”

“Pod 153, can you access any data with regards to looking after wolves?” 2B asked.

The pod took a moment before responding. “Statement: Early humans cultivated and domesticated wolves, developing the species into various models of dog through centuries of breeding. Humans and dogs have a close relationship; the latter is often referred to as ‘man’s best friend.’ For many humans, the relationship is one of symbiotic emotional comfort, in which caring for the dog would raise the human’s spirits as well. According to these records, humans address their dogs’ emotional needs through the following methods…”

Why did 9S feel he was about to be mortally embarrassed again?

“Scratching the dog behind its ears…”

Following the pod’s instructions, 2B laid her hand on the top of 9S’s head. 9S flinched and stiffened as her fingertips brushed against the base of his ears, but as she began to scratch, he felt all the tension melt away from his body like fat rendering out of cooking meat.

It really _did_ feel good, and 9S couldn’t help but curl up closer to 2B, his paws resting on her thighs, leaning into the skittering movements of her fingers, wordlessly asking for more. As 2B continued and grew more comfortable with 9S’s weight on her lap and the softness of his thick coat of fur, the stiffness in her limbs vanished, as if tending to him was melting the icy demeanor which constantly enclosed her.

“Petting the dog by running one’s hand down its back…”

2B moved on, burying one hand up to her fingers in 9S’s thick silver mane while tugging away his now-oversize frock coat with the other, and as his coat sloughed off and slipped to the floor, she slowly and gently raked her fingers from his neck down to the base of his tail. 9S shivered as 2B lifted her hand, returned it to the top of his head, and repeated the process, letting out a contented whine as his tail began to wag of its own accord.

“Statement: Humans would also call their dogs ‘good boys’ or ‘good girls,’” Pod 042 chimed in. “It was common practice for humans to ask their dogs rhetorical questions, such as, ‘Who is a good boy?’”

2B’s hand came to a stop halfway down 9S’s back. “Are you sure?” she asked the pod.

“Affirmative. Checksum values indicate the accessed records have been copied and transferred to this support unit with one hundred percent accuracy.”

With a whir of its servos, Pod 153 reached down with its cold metal manipulator arm and scratched behind 9S’s ear. “Statement: This unit will demonstrate for Unit 2B. Query: Who is a good boy? Response: You are.”

“Um…” 2B paused. 9S glanced up and noticed a faint, almost imperceptible red tinge to her cheeks. Hidden beneath her visor, her eyes were inscrutable. “9S, you are a…”

After a moment’s hesitation, 2B resumed petting him. “Y-You are a good boy, 9S,” she hastily mumbled. Then, emboldened, she said it again, with a little less hesitance, not stumbling so much over her words. For some reason, it felt so good just hearing those words that 9S completely and utterly forgot that he wasn’t supposed to _enjoy_ what had happened to him. Maybe this whole situation, as frightening and demeaning as it had seemed at first, was actually a blessing in disguise.

After all, what else would it possibly take to compel 2B to stroke his hair so gently and call him ‘a good boy?’ The end of the world, probably.

As the stress melted away, 9S rolled onto his back, sighing in relief as 2B began to scratch under his chin and comb through the softer, finer fur blanketing his chest.

It was a pretty common utterance among grumbling YoRHa units that the YoRHa Commander and the Resistance worked them like dogs. 9S decided it was a bad analogy, because if the higher-ups _actually_ treated them like dogs, nobody in their right mind would be complaining.

 _Just imagine,_ 9S thought, _how much morale would improve if the Commander went around patting all of the Type-B units on their heads and calling them ‘good girls’ after a successful mission…_

9S closed his eyes, feeling his body grow heavier, his limbs leaden, as 2B’s repeated utterances echoed through his ears with the same rhythm as her hands running through his fur, soft and soothing.

“ _Good boy. You’re a good boy, Nines.”_

Just as sleep had been about to take him, 9S cracked open his bleary and burning eyes. “Huh? What’d you just say?” he asked 2B.

2B swallowed a lump in her throat, her cheeks flushing bright red as she fidgeted uncomfortably. “I… I, um… I said…”

As 2B tried to hastily backpedal, 9S closed his eyes and fell asleep. When he woke up the next morning, he was back to normal, much to his (and Jackass’s) disappointment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next day, 9S starts taking fursona commissions. The Commander is not amused.


	2. Twice Shy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No YoRHa android has ever had to deal with a partner who would get scared of thunderstorms... until now.
> 
> Happy Halloween!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this on my phone last night because i was sick.
> 
> Turns out cute werewolves will cure whatever ails you. Try it!

The morning after the full moon, 2B had awoken not knowing what she'd expected to find in the quarters she and 9S shared at the Resistance camp. She'd fallen asleep with a wolf sprawled across her lap... and woke up to find a boy in its stead.

Even now, she couldn't hope to comprehend 9S's strange transformation. Not the reason for it, not the mechanism by which it had occurred... nothing. Nothing made sense. How could an android become flesh and blood, let alone an  _animal?_ What force of nature could cause such a thing to happen in a matter of seconds?

She and 9S went about their business for the rest of the day in awkward silence, running through the ruins of the ancient city the Resistance had set up camp in and performing odd jobs for their comrades. 9S was abnormally silent. 2B couldn't admit it, considering how many times she had reprimanded him for his chattiness, but she missed his constant attempts at small talk and even his occasional complaints.

Why was he so silent? Was he embarrassed about his behavior? Or was he still reeling from the shock and pain of having his world turned upside down?

Pain. That must have been it.

When 9S had collapsed in front of 2B and began to change, writhing on the grass and letting out anguished cries as his chassis had deformed and reshaped itself, it was obvious to 2B that he had been in unimaginable pain. Yet she'd been powerless, horrified at the scene that had played out in front of her as 9S, her partner,  _her_ 9S, had become a beast,  _shocked,_ unable to think rationally...

It was the worst pain 2B had ever seen 9S in in all the time she'd known him. Him, and the forty-seven who had come before...

She'd never wanted 9S to suffer like that. And she'd done everything she could to alleviate it. She'd even followed the pods' instructions, ran her hand through his fur, scratched him behind the ears, called him a...

2B couldn't believe she'd done it.

She'd called him a "good boy."

She'd called him  _Nines._

Even the slightest moment spent reflecting on that memory brought a flash of heat to her cheeks. In just one night she'd violated her cardinal rule ten times over.

_Do not become attached to 9S._

Why would she set herself up for that pain? The average 9S only lasted three weeks, and if she indulged in her feelings toward him, it would only make the inevitable conclusion to each 9S's short life all the more difficult to bear. Yet last night, she'd been unable to help herself. 9S was just... so cute, so soft, so fluffy and vulnerable, and tending to him had filled her black box with such a pleasant warmth...

Perhaps, 2B mused,  _she_ was the one who was embarrassed.

At the end of a long day, 2B and 9S returned to the camp worn and weary, the setting sun at their backs as it painted the sky in purples and pinks and heavy stormclouds massing on the opposite horizon. A cold wind was beginning to howl through the ruined city and the Resistance camp, sheltered in a crevice between two tall buildings but open to the elements, was a flurry of activity as the camp's inhabitants milled about putting up canvas tarps to shield any sensitive equipment from the oncoming storm.

As 9S observed the soldiers packing their meager belongings and hauling them into waterproof tents, he finally made his first irreverant remark of the day.

"Boy, 2B, aren't you glad we get an actual room tonight? Being with YoRHa sure does have its privileges..." he said.

One of the Resistance androids hauling a box of electronics hurried past him, "accidentally" jostling him. "Hey!" 9S shouted out. "Watch where you're going!"

2B shook her head. "Don't rub our good fortune in people's faces. We're _lucky_ Anemone had a spare room available in the camp for us."

"Yeah, yeah."

Pod 042 chimed in. "Proposal: there are thirteen square feet of unused space in the room set aside for Units 2B and 9S. In light of the incoming weather data and expected rainfall of twenty-nine centimeters, Units 2B and 9S should offer to shelter more delicate and high-priority equipment in their quarters."

"Good idea, Pod," said 2B, patting it on its hull.

Was _that_ why 9S was embarrassed? 2B wondered. Because she'd been treating him the same way she treated her tactical support pod?

"Let's go to Anemone," 2B continued, "and see if there's anything we can do for her."

9S groaned. "Yeah, sure, okay. Fine."

"Four affirmations is just overkill."

2B and 9S, despite his lack of eagerness, made their way through the bustling camp to Anemone's desk. The Resistance camp leader herself, a veteran of the Eighth Machine War boasting over two hundred years of faithful service to the Army of Humanity, was so absorbed in her duties directing the temporary relocation efforts that it took her nearly a minute to respond to 2B's question.

"Yes, that's fine," she said, barely seeming to acknowledge 2B's presence. "I think Popola and Devola have some computer terminals they just recovered from one of our old camps in the desert--You there! Don't you dare drop those incendiary shells, you'll set the whole camp on fire!" she barked at an android who'd been fumbling with a box of munitions.

"The old camp in the desert?" 9S asked. "Isn't that crawling with machines?"

2B dragged him along. "Come on. Let's find the twins while we still can."

* * *

Popola and Devola, twin android models with long, pinkish-red hair and tired-looking faces, were the workhorses of the camp. They did the jobs nobody else wanted to do and went where nobody else wanted to go. It wasn't unusual to see them covered in wrappings and casts due to the heavy damage inflicted over the course of their assignments. Nobody  _forced_ them to do these things--they just volunteered for every unpleasant, potentially-lethal task that came their way. 2B would almost go so far as to say they were suicidal, but the two of them had been around for a very, very long time, according to the others in the camp.

"Thanks for the help," Popola said as 9S took the last of the old computer terminals from her and set it in the corner of the rapidly-filling-up room. "We went through a lot of trouble to haul these back to camp."

"Don't mention it," 9S said.

"And not a moment too soon," Devola said as she stood in the doorway, holding out her hand. "I just felt the first few drops. Well, let's go."

"Thanks again," Popola told 2B and 9S, smiling as she tossed her locks of rail-straight hair over her shoulder. "Oh, and one more thing. Jackass was looking for you earlier today, 9S."

9S crossed his arms. "Was she?" he asked coldly. 2B could only assume he was recalling how she'd so thoughtlessly mocked him over his transformation and felt a twinge of guilt over having gone to her for help in the first place.

"She said she had something urgent to tell you," Devola chimed in. "Said she was looking up stuff about werewolves for you."

"Werewolves?" 9S asked.

"Man by day, wolf by night. It's an old human superstition," Devola said.

"9S, if you were looking up ancient human legends, you could've just asked us," Popola said. "We, um, know a lot about that stuff."

Devola stepped back into the room and let the door swing shut behind her as the rain began to come down harder outside. "Humans once believed that certain humans had the ability to shapeshift into wolves, either voluntarily or due to some kind of curse or punishment. Most commonly, they believed that being bitten by a werewolf would transmit the condition to others and the transformation would occur on the night of a full moon."

"Statement: Devola's description of this legend matches Unit 9S's condition," Pod 153 announced. "Proposal: Unit 9S should interrogate Devola and Popola for more information."

"'Condition?'" Devola asked, raising an eyebrow at Pod 153's choice of words.

9S scowled at his pod. "Um... by condition, Pod 153 means..."

"Statement: Last night, Unit 9S was damaged by an unusually large lupine creature and subsequently--"

"Okay, okay, geez," 9S sighed, scratching at his ear. Was 2B imagining it, or were his ears slightly more pointed now? "I'm a, uh... Long story short, I'm a werewolf now."

Popola and Devola stared at him with a look of confusion and disbelief.

"...A werewolf," said Devola.

9S nodded. "But... you just said it only happens during the full moon, right? And that was last night, so..." He shrugged. "Guess it's not such a big deal, after all."

"Correction: due to intense alterations to the Earth's rotation and the orbital speed and position of the moon," said Pod 153, "the lunar cycle no longer matches human records. For instance, the moon remains full for approximately five days."

9S shot another dirty look at his pod. "Oh, come on! I'm gonna have to put up with this for the rest of the _week?"_

"I'm afraid so," Popola said, laying a hand on 9S's shoulder.

"Don't worry, 9S," 2B assured him. "We'll speak with the Commander and Anemone about this and make sure they don't assign us any night missions."

"We can't  _tell_ anyone about this!" 9S protested, taking a step backward. "Telling Jackass was bad enough--now she thinks I'm a lab rat! What's the Commander going to do, ship me off to have me experimented on?"

That thought hadn't even occurred to 2B. She didn't have the kind of passion for gaining knowledge that 9S had, or other androids in more analytical fields, but what scientific-minded android wouldn't jump at the opportunity to find out how 9S worked? Would they ship him away to a lab somewhere? Lock him up? Run tests on him? Vivisect him, dismantle him?

2B shook her head. "I'm sure that wouldn't happen," she lied. "But we'll discuss what we can do in the morning."

9S sat down on the simple cot set up in the corner of the room and slipped out of his coat, doing the same for his boots and socks and laying them on the floor. "I guess."

"Um, 9S," Popola asked, "what are you doing?"

9S stripped off his gloves next. He was starting to look pale, his skin ashen and waxy. The sun must have finished setting, 2B realized, and although the full moon was obscured by thick stormclouds, its strange hold on 9S must have been undeterred. The transformation was beginning.

"Can you imagine how much it hurts to have your claws growing into your shoes?" 9S asked the twins as he pulled his shirt over his head, leaving him in nothing but his shorts. He'd even undone his visor and let the black strip of cloth flutter to the floor, revealing his pale blue eyes.

Sweat glistened on his pale skin. 2B saw something...  _undulating_ beneath his skin, something pulsing, as if the changes to his body were already well underway deep inside himself.

She sat down at his side and put an arm over his shoulder. His body was hot to the touch, and at close range, 2B could already see faint traces of silvery-gray fur showing themselves on his skin. She admired him for how well he was keeping himself together--though, she had to admit, enduring the experience once already and not being taken by surprise by it would do much to dampen his fear.

"Can't say I can," said Devola. She took Popola by the hand. "Come on, Popola. Let's give 9S some privacy."

"All right. Good luck, 9S," said Popola.

9S let out a pained smile. "Luck..." he gasped. "If I had any of it, this wouldn't be happening to me."

2B suddenly became aware of a long, bushy tail that was now twitching behind 9S as its tip brushed against her thigh. "Um... 9S..."

9S noticed the return of his extra appendage. "Oh, hey," he said with surprising calmness. "That didn't grow in first last time, did it?" he asked.

Devola opened the door and was greeted by a torrential downpour. The thick curtain of rain outside was nearly blowing sideways from the heavy winds buffeting the camp.  Water immediately began to leak into the room, forming a growing puddle on the floor.

"And us without our umbrellas," Devola grumbled. "Well..."

9S let out a piercing cry of pain as the transformation began in earnest, his body contorting and spasming despite 2B's best efforts to hold him steady. Popola rushed to his side, her instincts as a medical android kicking in even though there was little she could do. Together, she and 2B held 9S steady as the changes swept across his body. Devola shut the door and rushed in as well, the three of them keeping 9S pinned to the bed for his own safety as he convulsed.

9S grabbed hold of 2B and clung to her, curling up at her side. She wrapped her gloved hand around his and felt his hand shift in her grip as it changed into a furry paw, black claws tearing through his fingernails and catching on her gloves.

As his nose and mouth elongated into a slender, furry muzzle, 9S coughed and spat a slick, slimy wad of tiny, misshapen objects about the size of ball bearings onto the floor, letting out an anguished, bone-chilling howl as the last of the changes ran their course. 2B held him tighter, burying her fingers in his thick, warm coat of fur.

Devola rushed over and knelt down to observe the ejecta, picking up one of the tiny, saliva-soaked objects 9S had expelled. It was a tooth.

"Um, 9S," she said, holding it out in front of him, "this is..."

"Oh, yeah," 9S said, his muzzle now filled with sharp fangs. "I think I swallowed those last time. Th-Thanks." He reached out with his paw, plucked it from her hand, took a curious look at it, sniffed it with his wet, black nose, and promptly threw it across the room.

"What?" he asked as the other three androids stared at him, bemused. "Not like I _need_ it anymore."

"So, 9S," said Popola, "how do you feel?"

9S shrugged. "Weird. Vision's shot--everything's gray."

Devola nodded. "Well, dogs  _are_ colorblind."

"Smell, though..." 9S sniffed the air, his ears twitching. "It's like a second sight! I can even smell how you three are _feeling_ right now!"

"That's absurd," said 2B.

"Guilt," 9S said, pointing at Popola.

"Guilt," he said, pointing at Devola.

"Even more guilt," he said, pointing at 2B.

2B put her hand over her mouth and looked away, just in case there was the slightest hint of an expression on her face. How did he know? How was it possible to _smell_ someone's emotions?

"You're taking this pretty well," said Devola as 9S contorted himself to scratch at his ear with his foot.

"Well, you know," he said, "it's always easier to do something a  _second_ time. It didn't even hurt that much, really! It was like slipping into a brand-new uniform."

2B sighed with relief.

"I mean, it was agony, but not as unbearable as last night. Overall, if it gets easier every time I do it," 9S said, "this might not be so bad!"

Popola laughed. "That's the spirit!" she said, tousling 9S's hair and scratching briskly behind his ear. "You're such a cute little pupper, yes you are!"

9S's tail wagged behind him, thumping happily on the bed. 2B wanted to join in with Popola and give him some well-deserved pets as well, but a rush of anxiety stayed her hand.

Did she feel... _ashamed_ to express her affection for 9S in front of these two androids? After all, it ran counter to YoRHa's protocol: emotions were prohibited. It wasn't a commandment most YoRHa units took seriously, but for 2B, it was the holiest of holies, the one rule she tried hardest not to break.

Last night it had been different--just her and 9S. But now, with Popola and Devola here, how could she bring herself to break the one rule that did the most to keep her sane?

A loud, rumbling roar shook the camp, dulled by the walls of 2B's and 9S's humble quarters yet still almost deafening. The ceiling light dimmed and flickered for a few seconds.

9S yelped and all but flung himself off the bed, scrambling into the corner of the room and nestling himself amid a pile of worn-out computer equipment. _"What was that?"_ he hissed, trembling.

"What, the thunder?" Devola asked.

"I  _know_ it's thunder!" said 9S. "But why is it  _like_ that?"

"Like what?" Popola asked.

Another thunderbolt rolled by, louder and stronger, sending a tremor through the air. 9S flinched as if struck. "Like  _that!"_

"It's just a storm," 2B told him, kneeling beside him. "It's just like any other storm." She laid a hand on his back. "It's..."

Her words left her as her hand sank into his fur. 9S was quivering, his eyes wide, ears pulled back. He was...

_Afraid?_

Afraid of a _thunderstorm,_ of all things? 9S was a  _soldier!_ Together, he and 2B had fought legions of machines, taken on nearly a half-dozen Goliath-class machines all by themselves, even fought against the dreaded YoRHa fugitive A2 and lived to tell the tale... and now he was here, cowering from a bolt of lightning?

"Snap out of it, 9S," she told him. "It's just thunder. It's nothing to be afraid of."

9S closed his eyes and whined as another thunderbolt filled the air. Why was he being so difficult?

Devola tapped 2B on the shoulder. "I think I know what's wrong, 2B," she said. "There are a lot of human records about taking care of dogs, and it was common for them to be frightened of thunderstorms or other loud noises."

"How do you know so much about ancient humans?" 2B asked Devola.

Devola shrugged and smiled sadly. "We just do," she said. "Anyway, the problem is overstimulation, and since 9S is so unused to his heightened senses..."

"I'm right here, you two," said 9S. "You don't have to talk to me like I'm a--"

The room shook again. 9S tried to squeeze his way in between two columns of the stacked-up computer terminals. "You know," he said, "this is embarrassing for me, too!"

Pod 153 offered a few words of advice. "Analysis: stored records in this support unit's internal memory recommend the following solutions to deal with this specific scenario: Verbal reassurance, soft music, and a gentle application of pressure will reduce a dog's negative reaction to stimuli."

Overstimulation. That made sense. 2B felt sickened to have thought so little of what 9S was going through. _"I'm sorry,"_ she whispered to 9S, patting him on the back. His ears perked up. _"Come on out, 9S. It's okay."_

"Are there any blankets in here?" Devola asked.

Popola held out 9S's coat. "Will this do?"

"Sure." Devola took it and handed it to 9S. "Here you go. 2B, he's your partner, so  _you_ hold onto him." No sooner had 9S put his coat on--he was practically swimming in it; his wolf form was at least a head shorter than he normally was, and his coat looked comical on him--than Devola had all but shoved him into 2B's arms.

2B caught 9S, and as another thunderbolt rocked the camp, he clung to her, burying his snout in her shoulder. She could feel the coldness of his nose through the fabric of her uniform. "Is that all?" she asked.

"Gentle, constant pressure," Popola reminded her.

"Okay..." 2B placed her hands on his back. "Like this?"

Devola rolled her eyes. "For god's sake, 2B, just  _hug_ him!"

Of course that was what she had to do. 2B knew that. She knew what she had to do and she  _wanted_ to do it. She just...

Why did it have to be so hard?

2B carried 9S over to the cot and sat down. Closing her eyes and pretending Devola and Popola weren't watching her, she hugged him as he curled up in her lap.

_"There, there, Nines,"_ she whispered in his ear, his furry cheek tickling her chin, trying to keep her voice inaudible to anyone else but him.

9S snuggled closer to 2B, all but burrowing into her. _"Aww, 2B..."_

It wouldn't be so bad, 2B thought, if this night never ended, the storm notwithstanding. After all, she wondered if 9S would ever let her live this moment down.

9S reached out and patted her on the head. "Good girl."

2B felt her cheeks burn furiously as Devola suppressed a snicker.

"What else did we need, Dev?" Popola asked her sister. "Oh, right, music! 2B, 9S, do either of your pods have anything they could play?"

Pod 153 answered. "Negative. Music is considered counterproductive, and YoRHa regulations discourage support pods from using valuable storage space for recreational purposes."

"But you have documents about taking care of dogs," 9S pointed out.

Pod 153 shrugged. "Response: dogs are important."

Hearing that news, Devola and Popola consulted among themselves.

"It's been a long time..." said Devola.

"We don't have any accompaniment..." said Popola.

"I don't know if I can still hit all the notes," said Devola.

"But if you're comfortable with it," said Popola, "we could..."

The two of them nodded and took their seats on the bed flanking 2B and 9S, Devola on the left, Popola on the right.

Devola took a deep breath and began to sing [an old song in an ancient tongue](https://youtu.be/fxmP4eCFR4U), and as she sang, her sister's soft voice joined hers, singing a countermelody that weaved in and out of Devola's melody. The stereo effect of the two sisters singing on either side made their song inescapable and all-encompassing.

_Kuwata (souta) tsunowo vralai_  
_Tzuriji (saaha) pforaalekai_  
_Kwondzuvai undovartu wronduwail_  
_Tjortetei (skora) jeghi hiartro_

2B let the song wrap around her, carrying her and 9S away to a faraway time, a faraway place. The lyrics meant nothing to her, yet hearing them brought 2B to a place in her mind that felt more like home than anything else. And Nines came with her.

_Jinnata (langri) ivelichpfulei_  
_Deftyoma (nyawa) sorepiyamei_  
_Schidiyako alefni fatalliliya_  
_Nic'hpisha (kali) unhoreselye_

The sound of thunder was faint and distant. Here, there was no war. Here, there were no machines. Here, there was no YoRHa, no Resistance. Here, there was no inevitable future, just 2B and 9S, a girl and her wolf.

_Utrashain aforenje kurasol_  
_Towari hatasei mic'hatasei tsufrallai_  
_Utrashain aforenje kurasol_  
_Towari hatasei mic'hatasei tsufrallai ilja..._

Eventually, Devola and Popola brought their song to a close. Their voices cracked near the end of it, as though running the song through its course had been almost painful to them, and when they had both fallen silent, they quietly embraced each other, their fingers intertwining across 2B's back.

The thunder remained far in the distance as the storm blew itself farther and farther away from the ruined city.

"Thank you," 2B whispered to the twins as she held 9S closer, burying her face in his soft, thick pelt of silvery-gray fur.

Devola scratched at 9S's snout. "See, that wasn't so bad," she told him, her voice as syrupy as it was sleepy. She yawned. "Who's a good boy?"

"Me?" 9S began to wag his tail. It kept thwapping softly against 2B's leg. "Is it me?"

"Yes! You're a _very_ good boy!"

"2B, 9S... You won't tell anyone about this, will you?" Popola murmured.

2B nodded. The twins had obviously put a part of themselves on display that nobody else was allowed to see, a part of themselves that for whatever reason it hurt to show, all just to help... and that was something she understood all too well. "As long as you don't tell anyone about  _this,"_ said 2B as she carded her hand through 9S's fur.

"Deal," said Devola.

"Well, 9S," said Popola as she reached out to scratch under his chin, "what do you say to that? Our little secret?"

"If you think I'd tell anyone what happened here tonight, you need your logic circuits calibrated," 9S answered. "But if any of us  _did_ tell anyone, who'd believe us?

He reached out, tugged at 2B's visor until it fell away from her eyes, and looked straight at her, his own blue eyes sparkling. "I mean, who in their right mind would believe that a pair of YoRHa soldiers could do  _this?"_   he asked, and before 2B could even begin to anticipate what he was going to do, he licked her cheek.

His tongue, hot and wet, tickled 2B's skin, and she couldn't help but laugh at the unexpected stimulus. She couldn't remember the last time she'd ever laughed out loud at anything. Maybe this was the first time.

Popola and Devola stared at the two of them, dumbfounded.

The door to the room swung open. "2B, 9S," Anemone said, breathless and urgent, her sodden blue cloak dripping onto the floor as she stood in the doorway, "I'm sorry to ask this of you at this hour in the night, but--"

She looked at Devola. Devola looked back at her.

She looked at Popola. Popola looked back at her.

She looked at 2B. 2B looked back at her.

"I can explain," said 9S.

Anemone shook her head. "Don't," she said. She cleared her throat. "Never mind. I'll let you get back to whatever you four are doing. Have a nice night."

She left as suddenly as she came.

"Am I the only one," said 9S, "who thinks it's weird that Anemone recognized me? Someone must have..."

He trailed off.

_"Jackass,"_ he spat, scowling.

Pod 153 spoke up. "Incoming transmission from YoRHa command. Unit 9S has received orders to return to the Bunker with his current chassis for extensive physical examination."

9S shook his furry fist in the air.  _"JACKASS!"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know wolves aren't dogs, but honestly, 9S being A Good Boy is much funnier.


End file.
